I Can't Stop
by Attenia
Summary: Legolas is frustrated that his father won't allow him to take his place as a warrior of Greenwood, despite the endless hours of training he's put in. His anger gets the better of him, but instead of taking it out on Thranduil, he takes it out on himself. Aragorn tries to pull his friend away from what could quickly become a dangerous habit. OOC Legolas. Triggers: self-harm.


**Legolas**

"Ada, you're being unreasonable –"

"No, Legolas, I will not hear of it! You're my son, and it is far too dangerous."

"Hir nin, Legolas is the best warrior in Greenwood," Estel tried. "And he won't be going alone, he'll have a whole guard detail with him. He'll be safe."

"I will not hear of it, Elrondion! Legolas, I am done discussing this. Dismissed."

Legolas gave his father a withering glare before stalking out, breaking into a run to outdistance Estel. It wasn't fair. Any other warrior would have been allowed to test his skills against the spiders before they'd accomplished half of what Legolas had. Thranduil just refused to see that his son was becoming a strong fighter, strong enough to help push the darkness of their home back.

He slammed the door to his chambers, breathing hard.

"Legolas? Mellon nin, can I come in?"

He didn't answer, and Estel left, going to his chambers right opposite the prince's. Legolas paced, breathing hard. He was furious and hurt, and wanted to throttle Thranduil. He grabbed one of his twin daggers, and before he could think about it, pulled up his sleeve and slashed at his arm. Seven, eight, nine times, he cut angrily in long, shallow lines.

When the blood started beading up along the cuts, Legolas suddenly realized what he'd done. The knife fell from his hand. What was wrong with him? Why would he do something like that? He couldn't deny that he felt better, but Legolas found himself shaking. This wasn't right. He couldn't just go attacking himself like he would an enemy.

The blood seemed strangely beautiful, and he quickly put on his arm braces, covering the evidence. Legolas sank down onto the bed, only to get up again. Estel, he had to tell Estel. His friend would help him.

Of course, that was easier said than done. Legolas had never had an easy time admitting to any injury, let alone one he'd caused. But he didn't know what else to do. He was scared by what he'd just done, by how quickly and automatically it had happened.

Legolas reluctantly opened his door and stepped across the passage. He lifted his hand to knock on Estel's door, but found he couldn't do it. He turned back to his chambers, only to turn again to face Estel's door.

He had to. He couldn't.

Valar, what was wrong with him?

Legolas found himself wishing that Estel would come to check on him, but Estel was respecting his space, waiting for the prince to come to him. If Legolas wanted his friend's help, he'd have to ask for it. He was undefeated in his mastery of the bow, but when it came to knocking on a simple door, he found himself bested by his own mind.

He placed a flat palm on the door, his heart racing as though he was running through the forest. Legolas couldn't believe that he was afraid of this, of admitting to Estel that he needed help, but he was. Dear Valar, he was.

Before he could think better of it, Legolas swiftly knocked on the door. He regretted the action at once, but before he could turn away, Estel opened it. Whatever the man saw on Legolas' face must have concerned him, because he moved forward and grabbed the prince's shoulders. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Legolas opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Estel put an arm around him and quickly led him inside, settling him on the edge of the bed.

"Mellon nin? Speak to me. What happened? Are you sick, hurt?"

"H-hurt," Legolas whispered, unable to meet his friend's eyes.

"Where?"

He couldn't say it, he couldn't. But he had to, how else was Estel going to help him? With a trembling hand, Legolas started undoing the bracer on his left arm. He could still feel the cuts bleeding underneath it.

His hand shook so badly that taking the bracer off proved too much for him, but Estel quickly took over the task. Legolas closed his eyes, not wanting to watch Estel's expression when he saw.

"Oh, Legolas." Estel pulled him into a hug, and the prince found himself leaning into it. Tears made their way slowly down his cheeks as he clutched his friend's tunic tightly.

"What's wrong with me, Estel?"

"Nothing," Estel said fiercely. "You're just hurting. Do not worry, gwador, I will help you."

He pulled back out of the embrace and gently turned Legolas' arm. "These aren't too deep, at least, but I should still bandage them and put on a salve."

Legolas sat quietly as Estel saw to his wounds. It was something the man had done for him so many times before, but now, everything was different.

"Legolas?"

He forced himself to meet his friend's gaze. "Estel?"

"You can't do this again. It's addictive. You need to stay away from it, or you're going to be in trouble."

"Of course." He hadn't even considered doing it again. Legolas was still shaken by what had happened, and perhaps Estel realized this, because he urged the prince to lie down.

"You should rest. I will watch over you."

"Thank you, Estel." Legolas was sure he wouldn't be able to sleep, but then Estel started humming an old lullaby that Legolas had used to help the man sleep when he was just a child. Soon enough, the prince found himself drifting off.

Legolas hadn't considered for a second doing it again. When he woke several hours later, Estel was sitting exactly where he had been, in a chair beside the bed.

"How are you feeling?" the man asked gently.

"Better, I think." Legolas glanced down at his bandaged arms. "I'm sorry, Estel."

"It's alright, mellon nin. You gave me a scare, just don't do it again."

"I won't."

He didn't intend to, but for some reason, the memory of the bright red blood beading up on his arms wouldn't leave Legolas alone. He found himself longing to see it again. Estel was watching him carefully, clearly still worried. Legolas knew he was acting strange – not at all like his usual, cheerful self.

He tried, he really did, and managed to resist for a week before finding himself back in his chambers with his blade pressed to his arm. Legolas' heart was beating frantically. He knew he shouldn't do this… but he just wanted to do it once more, just once.

This time, when the blood started coming, he didn't stop. A wild joy took hold of his heart. Legolas felt like he was flying as he cut straight lines along his arms in swift, uncontrolled movements. He was barely aware of himself laughing with the pleasure of it.

It was one particularly deep cut that caught his attention. Legolas froze, staring. It should hurt, but it didn't. Nevertheless, he realized he'd gone deep, way too deep. These would need stitches for certain.

The blade clattered to the floor. Legolas tried to bandage up his arms, but his hands were shaking too badly. What had he done? He'd really messed up this time.

Panicking, he shouted his friend's name. "Estel! ESTEL!"

The man burst through the door, sword drawn. Estel cursed and dropped the blade when he saw Legolas hunched over his arms, both of which were bleeding profusely.

"I'm sorry." Legolas hated the look of pain on his friend's face. "I'm sorry, Estel, I –"

"Hush, it's alright, you're ok, mellon nin." Estel reached for the healing kit he carried everywhere and handed Legolas some herbs to chew, herbs the prince recognized as ones that dulled pain. His arms weren't hurting, so he shook his head.

"Take them, Legolas, please, I don't want to stitch you up without some kind of pain killer."

To make Estel happy, he took them. Legolas did his best to hold his shuddering arms still while Estel stitched, cleaned and bandaged his arms.

"Come on, let's get you into some clean clothes."

He was still shaking badly, so Estel dressed him like a child, eventually urging Legolas into bed and crawling in next to him. Legolas tentatively reached for his friend, and Estel pulled him into a hug.

"W-What's – wrong – w-with me?" Legolas choked. He realized he was crying, and he couldn't get the tears to slow, let alone stop. He pressed closer to Estel, and the man tightened his arms, holding Legolas as he trembled violently.

"I told you, it's addictive. I'm not really surprised, I suspected something like this might happen."

That hardly made Legolas feel any better. "I c-can't – keep – doing t-t-this…" He gestured helplessly at his bandaged arms. If he'd been alone, he would have been in trouble. Legolas didn't want to die, and he was scared, scared of what he might do if he went to far without help nearby.

"I know, you can't. It's dangerous, you know that now."

Legolas nodded against his friend's chest. Estel held him as he cried, letting Legolas soak his tunic in tears and hold onto him so tightly that it must hurt, but the man never complained. It took a long time, but eventually, Legolas' shaking subsided, and his sobs faded.

"I… I think I need help, Estel," Legolas admitted. It was something he'd never admitted to before, and getting the words out was one of the hardest things he'd ever done… but he was scared, more scared than he'd been in a long time, because this threat was not external, not something his father's guards could protect him from. This threat came from within, and it terrified him.

"I know, mellon nin. I will help you, I promise."

Estel was as good as his word. He took Legolas' weapons and searched the room for anything even vaguely sharp. He moved his stuff into the prince's chambers, and didn't let Legolas go anywhere alone, not even to the bathroom.

Legolas told him he didn't need to, but Estel insisted he didn't mind, and in truth, the prince was grateful. He didn't trust himself right now. It felt like all he could do was obsess over the need to cut himself, and it didn't get better – if anything, the urge grew stronger every day he didn't do it.

Of course, he couldn't hide in his chambers with Estel forever. After a week of him taking his meals in his room, Thranduil summoned Legolas to have dinner with him. It went without saying that Estel was invited too.

The first thing Legolas saw when he entered the room was the knives. Estel had been making sure that he had only spoons to eat with, but of course, Ada didn't know what was going on. Legolas stiffened, but forced himself to move forward. He could do this. It was just dinner. He could handle it.

As the meal went on, he found himself making excuses for why it would be ok to cut just once more. Just a few small ones. Legolas clutched his knife, meant to be used to cut meat. It could just as easily cut his skin.

The next thing he knew, Estel was tugging the knife out of his hand. Legolas gave his friend a panicked look. He couldn't do this. If he had to be in this room for another moment, he was going to grab the nearest knife and take it to his skin.

"Come on," Estel said quietly.

"Legolas? What's wrong?" Thranduil stood up when they did. Legolas realized he'd completely lost track of whatever conversation he was meant to be having with his father.

"I will explain, hir nin, I just need to get Legolas to his room.

"No, Estel," Legolas hissed frantically as the man led him away. "You can't tell him!"

"I have to, mellon nin. He needs to know the effect his behavior has on you if he's ever going to change. Besides, Ada will need me back at Imladris eventually. You'll need someone here to help you with this."

That all made sense, but it still filled Legolas with dread at the thought of his father knowing. Estel put an arm around him as he started to shake. "Don't worry, I'll talk to him."

Legolas paced in his chambers while Estel spoke with Thranduil. When they returned, the king's eyes were filled with tears.

"I'm so sorry, ion nin," Thranduil whispered.

Legolas fell into his Ada's arms, mumbling that it wasn't his fault. Thranduil murmured words Aragorn couldn't hear into his son's hair as Legolas shook with quiet sobs.

"You have to stop hurting yourself, ion nin." The elven king's voice was soft, pleading, so unlike the tone he usually used. "I will let you go out with patrols – Valar, I'll make you captain of our entire force – just don't do this."

"I can't stop, Ada," Legolas choked, trembling.

"We will help you," Aragorn said gently, reaching a hand out to put on his friend's back. "Don't worry, the urge will fade if we keep you from doing it long enough. You won't be alone for a moment, your father and I will see to that."

Legolas moved from his father's arms and wrapped Aragorn in a fierce embrace. "Thank you, Estel. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Die of boredom, probably."

That got a weak chuckle out of him.

"Now come, you've spent enough time inside. We're going out for a ride." Aragorn gave Thranduil a stern look, sure the king was on the verge of insisting they took guards with them. "Just Legolas and me."

After a pause, Thranduil nodded. "Take care of yourself, ion nin."

"I will, Ada. Or if I can't, Estel will."

Arm in arm, Aragorn and Legolas headed to the stables. Aragorn knew his friend was in for a rough few months, but they would tackle this the same way they did everything – together. And together, they would beat it.


End file.
